The Dress
by BittenBee
Summary: It's Christmas time, and Bella receives a mysterious package in the mail. She has no idea who the sender Edward Cullen is. They must track each other down over multiple digital platforms and in-person encounters to get to the bottom of the mix-up.
1. Part 1

**The Dress**

**Part I**

City dwellers marched to the beating capitalist drum that echoed through the holiday season. Glittering strings of light twinkled on trees and created glowing storefronts that beckoned both peevish and jolly shoppers. Stores called for last minute restocks and turnaround, carriers delivered under the flood of mail and packages, salt trucks and snow shovelers worked like elves. The frenetic energy these activities generated was all in the name of Christmas.

Bella was almost used to the maddening holiday pace by now, even from the impatient residents who avoided the frenzied fray with thinning tolerance. As she moved toward the nearest subway exit, she found herself caught up in the herd of people spilling out of the opening doors. Resurfacing from the tunnels, she was met with stingingly cold, fresh air and the blaring sounds of traffic. She tripped on one of the concrete steps, barely catching her balance in time. The force of the throng was only a step behind her.

Not being trampled to death was one obstacle down, but there were still a few blocks of melting ice to go. At least she could take her time avoiding slips once she reached her quiet neighborhood, Murray Hill. When she moved to New York City almost a year ago, she quickly learned that the East and West Village were very popular and highly priced, just as Upper Manhattan had always been out of the question. But she found that in Murray Hill, there were pockets of lower priced apartments that could be snagged if one was lucky enough to find a recently vacated unit. Of course, every New Yorker had his or her own opinion about the nicest or most inexpensive spots to live. Regardless, Bella was happy with where she'd ended up.

Her cheeks were red from the wintry temperature, despite her scarf, gloves, and knit hat. She stomped up the stone steps to her apartment building, and tore her mail from the box, and stomped up more steps to her unit. She heard holiday music playing from inside, and when she opened the door, her pseudo-roommate Alice was twirling around the kitchen—dressed in jeans, sweater, and giant pink furry slippers—dotting mugs of hot chocolate with mini marshmallows.

Alice was subletting Bella's living room for six months while she transitioned from a bad breakup and finished her graduate studies. They had done some sporadic apartment hunting, but nothing had jumped out for Alice yet. She'd been a good roommate so far and kept the things that weren't in storage neat, tidy, and out of the way. They turned the hall closet into Alice's, and made the bathroom a game of Tetris to fit all of her cosmetics. Bella had grown accustomed to having her around, and found that it was pleasant company whenever she walked in the door.

"You'd think it was the apocalypse coming," Bella said in greeting, methodically undoing her winter layers. She draped them over the back of the couch.

"I won't have any time to shop until after finals. And then there will only be the scraps left," said Alice. "For you."

Bella took the steaming mug from her. "Thanks."

They sat at the breakfast nook and Alice sorted through the mail while Bella let the welcome heat start to work its way into her. Alice tossed a package at her, and went on sorting.

She glanced at it, frowning at the unknown sender. The handwriting was so small and neat with an old-fashioned flourish on some of the letters.

"I don't know an Edward Cullen. Must be yours." She nudged it back toward Alice, who was humming Wonderful Christmas Time by Paul McCartney while tearing open a family holiday card.

Alice peered at the package and replied instantly, "Nope."

She set her mug down and studied the soft paper package. "Are you sure you didn't buy something online?"

Alice cast aside her mail and looked more interestedly at it. "Positive."

"There's no name on it," she said.

"But you live here. That's the address on it, isn't it? Who else could it be for?"

Bella had no answers. Her Christmas presents were souvenirs her parents brought back from their annual holiday vacations. She certainly wasn't expecting anything from anybody else. She continued to sip her hot chocolate.

"Open it," Alice said suddenly.

"It must be a mistake. What if it's for someone else? Isn't that against the law?"

"Maybe there's a clue inside or a letter that would solve this whole mystery. Come on. Open it. I'm curious now."

Bella relented, also wanting to solve the mystery, and opened it cautiously. She pulled forth a tissue-wrapped bundle. Out of it slid a dress. She held it up. It was an interesting dress and above the norm fashion-wise: teal with a two-inch wide purple strap that started at the back of the right shoulder and crossed over to the middle of the front. It ended in the shape of a flower. Its dark purple was a lively contrast over the teal dress. It also appeared to be her size. There was no card.

How could opening it make it even more unexplainable?

Alice's hazel eyes were awestruck. She pulled out the tag. "Oh, my God. It's Versace."

"Ver-who?"

"VER-SA-CHEE." She let Alice hold it up. "How do you not know... Never mind. What a dress! And you have no idea who sent this to you?" Alice held it against herself to test the fit.

Bella laughed at her reverence and growing excitement. "Really. I don't have the faintest idea who this is from or why."

"What about Secret Santa? We're doing that in one of my classes this year. I got stuck with someone who I don't even know from a different major. That's another reason I don't care for required electives."

"No Secret Santa for me. Jenks likes to take the office out for a holiday lunch." She began to gather the tissue paper and packaging. "I better return to sender."

Alice clutched the dress to herself in refusal. "You can't give up a dress like this. Bells, please. Use your good sense. When will you ever get another one like it?"

"But it's not mine. This person obviously made a mistake. And what if the intended person never gets her Christmas present?"

The guilt started to loosen Alice. She handed it back. "Your morals are _really_ inconvenient."

"Apparently." Bella repackaged it except for the seal, which was torn. "I guess it would've been nice to receive a gift like this from someone special."

"Maybe you should put it on before returning it... Just to see what it looks like."

She narrowed her eyes. "Al, don't enable me." She looked down at the package with consideration. Such temptation, and it was right in her hands...

They looked at each other, mischief and triumph circling the air.

She ran to her bedroom. Alice wasn't far behind and stopped at the door to wait. Five minutes passed.

"Come on, Bells! I'm dying out here. Let me see."

"All right, all right." Bella's sigh filtered through the door. When she opened it and showed the tight dress off with a few ungraceful catwalks, Alice was all approval with a few snaps of her camera phone.

"It looks so good. Really."

She went to the mirror and looked at herself. The dress seemed to transform her into a sexy sophisticated woman. _Sexy_ and _Bella_ didn't usually cross paths. People had always described her as "cute" and "sweet." She combed her wavy brown hair with her fingers and then smoothed it back and gathered it over one shoulder. The dress clung smoothly on her, accentuated some curves she'd forgotten about under all the jeans and sweaters she wore. Past the details and curves, it stopped mid-thigh in an elegant teasing way.

"I really should return it."

Alice came up with a pair of black pumps. "Try these on with it."

The pumps were like a face-lift and completed the overall dramatic effect. "Damn it." She chewed at her bottom lip. "I want to keep this dress."

Alice fist-pumped the air. "World, say hello to Bombshell Bella."

"Har, har." She slipped off the pumps, gave the dress one last look of admiration. "I'm sending it back!" And she escaped to her bedroom, shutting the door behind her.

For the rest of the week, the dress hung on her closet door. She liked to look at it. It represented far-fetched dreams, some abstract fantasy that she'd never have the guts or grace (or money) to make a reality. Additionally she knew she'd never have an occasion in her life where she could wear it to.

She'd never felt so torn in her life. Sooner or later, she would have to make a decision.

Rosalie, a coworker and friend, would give a fresh second opinion. There was no doubt how Alice felt about it. After Bella told her the whole short story of this holiday mystery, Rosalie did not give her the answer she was looking for.

"Keep it."

"But it's not for me."

"Then return it."

"But...it's gorgeous."

"So keep it."

Rosalie's cut-and-dried responses were unhelpful. Bella did a number of things to help herself reach a decision.

First, she called her mother and asked if she knew an Edward Cullen. Renee had no idea and launched into family gossip and reminders about the Swan Family Christmas Party this year, and could she pick up a few party platters at the grocery store beforehand?

Second, she did a LinkedIn and WhitePages search for Edward Cullen. Four possibilities came up: Eden Cullen, Edwin Cullen, Edgar Cullen, and one genuine Edward Cullen. Their places of employment and addresses reached varying locations, from Texas to Hong Kong. However, the Edward Cullen worked for some kind of creative media agency in New York. His listed address also matched the sender of her mystery package.

She could attempt a phone call or scope him out before asking about it in person, but that seemed like such a socially abrasive action just to clear up a discrepancy over a mailed package. The trouble was, Alice was rubbing off on her. She wanted the dress. However, the moment he asked for it back and apologized for the mix-up was the moment she would instantly give it up.

This conclusion led to the third: write a Thank You note.

She ducked low at her desk, feigning hard work around the ringing phones and grumbling copy machine, and carefully penned a letter on company stationary.

_Dear Mr. Edward Cullen,_

_Thank you very much for the Versace dress you sent. It is so beautiful and unlike any gift I have ever received._

_Unfortunately I can't remember if we've ever met before. _

_Who are you?_

_Sincerely,_

_Bella Swan_

That ought to do it. Simple, appreciative, and to the point. She mailed it directly, partially clearing her conscience.

If he never responded, she'd done all she could. Right?

Two days later, she choked on her morning coffee as she stumbled upon a message in her e-mail inbox.

_From: Edward Cullen _

_To: _

_Date: December 7, 2011 7:51 AM EST_

_Dear Ms. Bella Swan,_

_Sorry. I thought the woman who it was for still lived where you apparently live now. _

_I hope you aren't disturbed by my email. Regular mail is so slow, and usually clogged up this time of year._

_Edward Cullen_

"So, he's letting you keep the dress?" asked Alice over lunch on Saturday.

They met at a casual restaurant they'd been to often. It had a full bar, and in the summertime it had a lovely outdoor area marked off and donned with hanging basket plants. Since it was now winter, they sat inside where it was temperature-controlled and decorated for the holidays. It was very noisy with the chatter echoing off the loft-style interior.

"I'm not sure. He didn't really mention it. Just apologized for confusing me with some other woman."

"That is so odd. And you haven't replied yet?"

"No."

"He probably assumes you'll send it back to him," said Rosalie.

"Damn. I guess I should ask. But is there even a tactful way to ask a question like that?"

They all said nothing. The waiter refilled their glasses discretely and left.

"I know," said Alice. "Offer to meet him over coffee and bring the dress with you. If he prompts you for it, you can just return it over a friendly cup. But if he doesn't—"

"It'll be an awkward date," said Bella. "Why would I do that to myself?"

"Furthermore," said Rosalie, flipping her blond hair off her shoulder and taking a sip of wine, "you don't know anything about this guy. He might be a white-collar creep or an old man. Grandpa Cullen."

"I don't think he's that old or retired. He works at a social media agency. Jenks isn't even sixty yet and he shuns anything digitally advanced. But, you know, this Edward Cullen could be married or something. Still awkward."

"If he's married, he shouldn't be meeting young women for coffee in the first place, " said Rosalie.

Bella abandoned her chicken Caesar salad. "All this speculation is giving me a stomach ache. I should just return the dress and be done with it."

Still, she had trouble sending it off for reasons she didn't even know anymore. And rereading his email didn't help. There was no more mystery as to where the dress came from, only for whom it was intended. She had to admit to herself that what truly kept her from letting go was the mystery of _him._ It was starting to take up space in her brain. Her imagination went from Edward Cullen: the adulterous middle-aged man sending inappropriate gifts to his mistress, to Edward Cullen: mafia hit man sending the dress as some kind of insider veiled threat to a woman who decided to escape for her life. But that was unlikely...

The online correspondence made her a little more daring than she'd ever dare to be in person. She replied to his e-mail.

_From: Bella Swan _

_To: Edward Cullen _

_Date: December 8, 2011 8:42 AM EST _

_Dear Edward Cullen,_

_No problem. Accidents happen. Did you want the dress back? If not, I will enjoy wearing it this holiday._

_Bella Swan_

Thirty minutes later a Facebook notification popped up in her personal e-mail inbox.

"Edward Cullen has requested to be your friend."

* * *

><p><strong>A Christmas short story I wrote...just in time for Valentine's Day, ha! Thanks to dollegirl for her encouragement and to my beta kimpy0464. Any errors are mine.<br>**

**Four more parts to come.**


	2. Part 2

**Part II**

Bella was in a near panic at Rosalie's desk. "He wants to be my Facebook friend."

"Really?" Rosalie's eyebrows rose as she turned away from her keyboard.

"That means I'm in trouble. Doesn't it? What if he's tracking me down so he can call the cops on me for theft?"

"Okay," said Rosalie, forcing herself to have the patience to deal with such a ridiculous idea. "I doubt he's going to do that."

"How do you know? We have no idea what he's _really_ thinking."

Rosalie thrust open the top drawer of her desk where she kept her emergency stash of candy and gave Bella a mini bag of M&Ms. "Think of the bigger picture. Facebook is child's play. If he seriously considered pressing charges of any kind, he would do it in a straightforward manner. Probably would have already done it. If he wanted the dress back, he would've said so when you asked."

Bella stared off in thought. "So, he's...having fun with me?"

"It appears that way." She looked back to her monitor. "It's interesting."

Her cryptic, open-ended remark prompted Bella to ask, "What do you mean?"

"Well. You don't know him really, but you can get a sense of his humor. It sounds like something my husband would be amused by."

"Hm. Has Emmett ever done anything like this to you?"

"Once. I met him through our friend Garrett at a party years ago. I didn't remember him at all, but two weeks later I got a text message from an unknown number asking me out on a date. He wouldn't tell me it was him until I could guess. I think he thought that was funny." Rosalie shrugged, holding back one of her rare smiles.

Bella accepted Edward Cullen's friend request.

Then she did what any self-respecting person would do: she "researched" him. Nose to screen, she combed through his profile and list of friends. Unfortunately he didn't have many pictures of himself posted or tagged.

The picture he used for his profile was an image of himself and another guy on a canoe in the middle of a vast lake, holding up their paddles for the camera. It was taken at such a far distance she could barely make out his features, but he seemed like a young adult. She reminded herself that she had no idea how old the picture was. He was wearing a baseball cap and sunglasses. There was a touch of a grin around the faint line of mouth.

"Bella." It was the deep rumble of her boss standing nearby.

She clicked off the browser and flung back from her monitor in the same instant. "Yes?" She knew her expression was wild, her chair rolling back, as she took in her boss looking down at her from the wall of her cubicle.

"Your phone is ringing." He stared her down a moment longer before continuing his pass around the office. He was a short, portly man who sweated a lot. She could already see the sheen of it on his retreating bald head.

She yanked for the phone, her eyes downcast and her face burning.

Covertly, she continued to check Facebook throughout the day and next. There was no other communication from Edward Cullen. She decided to spice up the interaction. She moved the cursor to the status box and made herself a new one.

_Bella Swan ...is going to wear her new dress tonight._

And she would. To Renee's Christmas party.

Alice and Bella picked up Rosalie on their way to the party, who demanded to see the infamous dress. _At once_. "I'm speechless, and that's hard to do," she said appraisingly. "Okay let's go; it's cold outside. Em got held up at work. He'll meet us there later."

Renee was decked out almost as much as the tree in the family room, festooned with holiday-themed garb and touches of sparkle. Her parents' house was warm and filled with family and friends and the scents of baking. (Knowing her mother, it was probably nothing more than carefully concealed scented candles.) Her father, Charlie, sat in his chair by the fire listening to Billy Black go off about which sports team should or shouldn't have won at the latest game. The Blacks were her family's oldest friends, and felt more like a second family. As Bella entered the room, Charlie glanced up—his brown eyes always animated with silent laughter—and smiled when he saw his daughter fall victim to one of Renee's strangling hugs.

The plastic bags filled with her mother's last minute needs stretched painfully over her fingers. Renee released her and looked her up and down to make sure she was eating right when, "Honey, what is this dress you're wearing? It's interesting and very pretty! Sue, come here and look at this."

Bella flushed under their attention as a few cameras flashed. She felt as if she was in the center of feasting paparazzi instead of welcoming family members.

The Swans hosted their party a couple of weeks early so they could take their holiday vacation. It was usually somewhere warm and tropical. Bella had countless photos of her parents on a beach wearing sunhats, faces smudged with sunscreen, and cocktails in hand toasting to her from afar. This year they were going on a Mediterranean cruise, and she'd already made room on one of her shelves for the souvenir she'd receive when they returned.

She moved out of the spotlight with excuses that the dress was one of Alice's (of which she informed Alice moments later), and went to break open the platters in the kitchen. Then she dutifully went on to hug, kiss, and greet others. Hors d'oeuvres were placed around the room, and spiked cocoa and eggnog were sipped. Even Charlie had brandy and eggnog. He almost always preferred a nice cold beer but made an exception this time of year.

Unfortunately, a lot of Bella's relatives happened to be her Facebook friends. She was the type of person who simply couldn't decline requests, especially when she had already accepted her mother and first cousin. After that, Renee's friends and other family members got wind of it, and before she knew it, half her Facebook friends were actually family.

That's why, the following morning, as she was sitting on a stool at the kitchen counter, Bella saw that she was tagged in many photos that were uploaded on the site. In her usual manner, she was prepared to _untag_ most of them unless she thought she looked particularly well. But deciding that she looked well was rare.

She also had a private message.

_I think the dress was sent to the right recipient after all. Beautiful. Looks like you had fun._

_-Edward Cullen_

She laughed in reaction to the shock she felt inside. She was also amused that he signed the message with his name; there was no need to because Facebook clearly marked it on the top. But now what to say? Should she keep this strange and silently thrilling communication going? She had a feeling that if she never replied again, he would leave her alone and think nothing of it. After all, people have to get on with their lives... Her hands typed along the keyboard with a mind of their own, undoing all of her practical thoughts.

_Thank you. That's very sweet of you. It was a hit with both my mother and a very critical aunt—now that's a Christmas Miracle. Do you see your family around the holidays, too?_

_Okay, I'm off to make hot chocolate. Happy Saturday, Edward._

To go with the dorky trend, she put her name at the bottom of the message. He replied within minutes. She imagined that he was sitting in his kitchen, too, sipping coffee. She stirred her fresh mug of hot chocolate and read.

_Wow, I haven't had hot chocolate since I was a kid. Do you prefer whipped cream or marshmallows with it? I go skiing with the family and hang out at my parents' cabin in New Hampshire. My dad bought it for my mom years ago for their 25th anniversary._

_Edward_

_Your parents sound very much in love. That's wonderful. My parents are too, though they've had their share of marital problems. In the end they stuck through it and are very happy. My mother can be kind of flighty, and my dad is good for her._

_I've never been skiing. I'm kind of a klutz, so I've always avoided that sport. Am I missing out?_

_Hot chocolate with marshmallows is for the cool people. I think you should get on the bandwagon._

_Bella_

She was smiling as she went to throw a load of laundry into the washing machine. She'd counted just enough quarters for one load. Passing through her bedroom, she glanced at the dress hanging on her door. It was hard to believe she was talking to this Edward Cullen, sender of a Versace dress. It made her slightly uneasy that it was intended for some other woman. But she didn't want to tactlessly toss the question out there.

Alice came back from her holiday shopping rush in the afternoon and dumped her bags in a corner by the door. "Only one exam left, but I just had to tackle my gift list!" Her cheeks were pink, her short black hair tousled when she took her knit cap off. They made sandwiches and put on a movie, and Bella forgot about Edward for a little while.

It wasn't until Alice said, "So fidgety," that she realized she was wondering whether Edward had replied or not.

"Oh, sorry. I guess I'm a little cold." And she grabbed the blanket off the back of the couch and draped it over herself.

Alice stole a corner so they could share. Bella liked having her around but realized with a pang of sadness that her pseudo-roommate would be moving out eventually.

When she got ready for bed later that night, she pulled her laptop out, unable to resist one last look at Facebook.

_Oh, Bella, you have to go skiing. It's thrilling to soar down a mountain with the wind blowing at your face. I would enjoy taking you sometime because it's really a deprivation not to have experienced it at least once in your life. If you crash a lot, I'll fall down a few times just so I won't feel left out. _

_I want to be on the cool people's bandwagon. I made a mug of hot chocolate, but I only had Hershey syrup for now. Does that still count?_

_Edward_

She laughed down at her screen, quickly stifling it so as not to rouse Alice's curiosity.

_I suppose I'll accept your Hot Hershey Concoction this once. I thought everyone had a box of Swiss Miss in their pantry. Kidding. _

_Okay, it sounds like I'm really missing out on this fun activity of skiing. I might take you up on your offer sometime. If I wind up in the hospital in a body cast, I hope you'll get the bill._

_It seems like you're into outdoor activities, judging from your profile picture and your enthusiasm over skiing. Are you the type who goes skydiving and bungee jumping too? I don't think you could convince me to do either of those things...ever._

_Good night, Edward._

_Bella_

It was exciting to get to know someone, but actually going skiing with him... Of course he was joking, just being nice. None of it was really serious. It was online.

She devoted Sunday to a good book while Alice was at the library cramming for her last exam. Later that evening, she fell asleep during a movie and had strange dreams about a hypothetical, unclear Edward. It was all shadow and whispers, thoughts, a hint of smile. Before she knew it, the alarm clock was ringing, and the sun was reflecting off the snow on her windowsill and filtering into her room.

Two weeks before Christmas, and the office had a light and heightened cheeriness to gloss over the usual impatience of the work pace. She booted up her computer, checked for messages, ordered supplies, filed and typed up documents, and did other routine tasks that were part of the first thirty minutes of arrival. Then she checked Facebook, and was once again thankful that the office didn't block websites. He had sent another message last night.

_You've been checking out my profile picture, have you? I've never had a stalker before (unless you count Tiffany Bateman from seventh grade, and she gave up after three weeks). That picture was from a camping trip I went on a couple years ago. I wouldn't recommend camping unless you're okay with ten-mile hikes and purifying your own water. And not bathing for a few days. I've never skydived or bungee jumped before...I'm not sure what "type" of person that makes me, but I'm not an adrenaline junkie._

_Here's an unfair question: what do you like to do in your spare time (other than entertaining senders of mistaken packages and sipping hot chocolate)?_

_Edward_

_p.s. I promise not to let you break any bones or end up in a full-body cast from skiing._

_p.p.s. I'm going to buy real hot chocolate mix after work._

She supposed she had been asking a lot of questions and kept him talking about himself until he realized it was getting one-sided. She was beginning to get a sense of who Edward Cullen was, though it wasn't nearly enough to satisfy her. She definitely needed to do some more "research."

His e-mail address had dropped such an obvious clue as to where he worked that she took the bait shamelessly. Her own company address on the stationery and e-mail information would induce him to do the same "research," she had no doubt of that. Google brought up his website immediately. NewMoon Creative was an advertising and consumer review agency for outdoor athletic equipment and clothing manufacturers. He wasn't listed under a staff page; there was simply a Contact Us form and information about the company. But it did explain his interest in outdoor activities.

Part of her wanted to visit Rose's desk and give her an update on the latest developments, but something else about this online correspondence made her want to keep it a secret.

She held off replying to him until lunch.

_I admit, I was checking out your profile picture to see with whom I was dealing. A little research never hurt anybody... But for all I know that picture could be a fake. I think I need to see more in order to verify its authenticity (I may be the most polite stalker you've ever met). After all, you've seen plenty of me thanks to my relatives' overzealous tagging habits. _

_All kidding aside, you're right, that's an unfair question. What do people usually say? Movies, hanging out with friends, good food... I'm a receptionist—for now, which is not all that glamorous. I like to cook, too. It's really an acquired skill when growing up with a mother who readily experiments in the kitchen and a father who is dubbed Guru Griller. After work I'm going to make some chicken noodle soup. The key to a good one is all in the broth. I think it will go nicely with a baguette._

_Bella_

_p.s. I'm going to pass on any camping trips. Baby steps, you know._

_p.p.s Same question._

* * *

><p><strong>Squishy heart thanks to my beta, kimpy0464, who is hoping Edward will buy the Ghirardelli Sweet Ground Chocolate &amp; Cocoa, and to dollegirl for her encouragement. Any errors are mine.<strong>


	3. Part 3

**Part III**

At the store Bella picked out her baguette, but decided to get a few other things while she had the chance. Alice was turning out to be a comforting and enjoyable occupant, but she couldn't make anything except sandwiches, popcorn and hot chocolate. Bella could imagine her roommate looking at a small mound of produce on the kitchen counter with utter bewilderment. She laughed to herself in the canned goods aisle, and selected a couple of sweet corn. The cart was half full with an interesting variety of items, but they all paired awkwardly. She was unable to decide between salads and comfort food; if she loaded up on ingredients to make heavy comfort food dishes, at least the salads lessened the guilt.

Renee had called. Well, left a wild, hurried message with an airport attendant blaring from overhead speakers was more accurate. Bella didn't mind and hoped their travel was safe.

After she got dinner underway, Alice arrived, remembering to wipe her boots on the doormat, and sniffed the seasoning in the air with appreciation. They sat at the little kitchen table and ate like an old married couple, which amused Bella. But as soon as Alice was full and went to her area of the living room, Bella escaped to her room with Facebook on the brain. Everybody needed down time for themselves.

There was no new message from Edward. The disappointment hit her harder than expected. Once it hit, it settled in her middle like some awful twinge of coming down with something. She hadn't realized how much her immediate happiness depended upon hearing from him, even if it was something as stupid as his sudden decision to never eat turnips again. Did he even eat turnips? Of all the silly places her thoughts traveled to...

It wasn't false hope that made her check her e-mail. Instead she opened her inbox to occupy her mind elsewhere. Perhaps one of the spam e-mails she received would finally entice her enough to do a little online shopping. Unexpectedly, the newest e-mail at the top of the mountainous spam was unmistakably from Edward. _How did_... Then her brain was quick to make the connection. Her personal e-mail address was listed in her contact info on Facebook.

She opened it, confused as to why he changed their platform of communication, but pathetically relieved nonetheless. It must be because their conversations were turning longer and more personal.

_From: Edward Cullen _

_To: Bella Swan .com_

_Date: December 12, 2011 10:34 PM EST_

_Bella,_

_That chicken soup sounds about perfect right now after the day I've had. I'll be breaking open a can of Campbell's and pretending it's as good as yours. I had to deal with a very surly client and almost lost the account. I should've fired the marketing assistant and given the job to you. Your brain seems to be working perfectly, but he looked so distressed by the ordeal that I took pity on him. Anyway, I'm sure you don't need to hear me rant and wallow over nonsense. I'm fully aware that I'm speaking to a lovely woman and not an unresponsive journal._

_I realize now that I shouldn't have asked you what you do in your spare time since the tables have turned on me. ;-) One word: bowling. If you go to one of the alleys in the city, the guy behind the counter might know me by name! Billiards is fun when the mood strikes, baseball games, anything to do with going out, I guess. Work takes up a lot of my time (in and out of the office)._

_Don't downplay what you do, Bella. If you weren't there, I'm sure phones would ring all day while higher-ups watched in despair as their calls got missed, and then nothing would get done. If I've learned anything from past corporate jobs it's to treat people well, then they'll do anything for you. Seriously, I love the receptionist here. Her name is Phyllis and she keeps everyone in line. There's something efficient about the elderly; they don't waste time getting things done and tend to cut through the bullshit with a withering look. It makes people feel an old shame their grandmothers used to cause in them when they were young. _

_I've rambled too much already. Sweet dreams, B._

_Edward_

Bella was smiling broadly by the end of it and giggled under her breath at his description of Phyllis. But it told her more about Edward than it did about his receptionist; Edward Cullen was a sweet person at heart. Any person who treated old people well and did it with good humor was rare nowadays, it seemed. She still wondered that he was suddenly e-mailing to her personal account. He must be trying to keep her on her toes a little. They had shared a lot in a short amount of time. They acquired each other's e-mail addresses and employment whereabouts, the wealth of knowledge and imagery Facebook provided, and of course, mailing addresses. As far as Bella was concerned, it was already getting personal.

If he were like any other friend, shouldn't she invite him out with her friends? She already knew the answer to that question. She wasn't ready to share him with anybody else. He'd pop up in her social atmosphere like a daisy in winter. And the interested, knowing looks from Alice and Rosalie would be too much.

Her smile slowly faded. There was a quality, a tone to his words that she had initially dismissed in her enthusiasm of receiving the e-mail and the part about Phyllis. It was a rough day for him, or perhaps it was something else, but he sounded _gloomy_. She imagined him as if they were having a face-to-face conversation over coffee, and he was forcing a smile while telling her about his day.

A funny feeling settled in her middle. She cared about him, and the extent of it surprised her. Even more surprising was how quickly she had made the decision…

The next day she sent the package to him by way of a personal courier, tipping the boy, Tyler, generously. He was a frequent deliverer of all things lunch-related from Jenks' favorite place. Jenks liked to order take-out from them at least once a week and she had gotten to know Tyler in a friendly way.

The usual afternoon lag time between two and three-thirty arrived. She picked up the ringing phone with the disinterest that comes from doing a repetitive task and spoke the company's greeting.

"May I speak to Bella Swan, please?"

"Speaking."

Recognition slid neatly into place, though she couldn't pinpoint exactly how she knew it was Edward. She simply did, and hunched to the corner of her desk in a way that demanded privacy. A curtain of her hair fell forward to obscure the business further.

"Bella," he said again. Her brain had already begun to fit the deep tone and smoothness of his voice into a clearer picture of him. "I received a package from you. Hopefully I was the right recipient..." He chuckled nervously. "I did mention this is Edward. Edward Cullen. Didn't I?"

She started laughing, and relaxed her shoulders she hadn't realized had tensed. "I don't send packages often, so it was easy to figure out."

"It was really thoughtful. The best delivery I've gotten, in fact. We've done a pretty good job of tracking each other down, haven't we?"

"Hm. Maybe I should screw my degree and start a career in identity theft." He laughed, and it relieved her that he somehow got her weird sarcasm immediately. "I'm glad you got it all in one piece, no spills. I paid Tyler extra."

"No spills, except for the occasional spoon drips down my shirt. I ate it right away, but I think it's ruined me. I can't ever go back to Campbell's again. Listen... If you hadn't traversed from our cyber communication back to material channels, I would have, so I'll be straightforward. Would you like to get coffee sometime?"

Her breath caught in her chest. "The other line is ringing. I'm so sorry. Can you hold? I'll be back in a sec..."

She didn't wait for an answer, and leaped to her feet. Her chair was left swinging from side to side as she went in hot pursuit of Rosalie. Bella found her sipping from a cup of coffee, a small break from her usual, high-efficiency self.

"He asked me out for coffee."

Rosalie was used to Bella's greetings—right to the point of what she wanted to say. She smiled at Bella's ingenuous young face framed by hopefulness and worry.

"And you said yes, I assume."

"Actually... He's on hold."

"If you're trying to make him sweat, you're doing a fabulous job of it so far."

The color drained from her face. "Damn. He probably hung up."

She rushed back to her desk with as much a semblance of normalcy as possible under the circumstances. The red light was still blinking. She wrenched the phone back and said, "Edward?"

"I'm here."

"Yes."

"Yes?"

"About getting coffee sometime."

He forced a laugh. "I thought you were pulling off an escape route. Ah, never mind. I have no idea why I said that. Is tomorrow evening a good sometime?"

They agreed on the when and where of it, and it wasn't until they hung up that the happy amazement rolling through her shifted gears toward nervousness. She hadn't even checked her calendar to make sure she was free, but it didn't matter. Occurrences like Edward didn't happen often—ever. Not to Bella Swan, at any rate.

When she again pieced together everything she learned about him thus far, she wondered if she was too much of a homebody for Edward. He seemed very adventurous, and that didn't appear to be limited to his love for outdoor athletics. He'd been predominantly the one to seek her out after their initial mix up. He was the one who started using e-mail, then he sent a Facebook request, and now, he was calling her on the phone. The sound of his voice as she remembered it replayed in her head, causing a pleasant shiver to roll up her spine. Sure, she'd gone out on a limb once or twice, but she had a feeling Edward's proactive ways had more to do with his personality and less to do with her.

In short, she thought he might be bored with her.

She dressed a little more carefully for work the next day and took extra time with her hair until it flowed like silk. She wouldn't really have time to go back to her apartment to prepare for her coffee… what was it? _Date? Meeting?_ _Get-together? _ Yes, get-together. She could handle get-together.

Alice made a few suggestions about her appearance and was dead set on creating a Wow Factor. To be kind, Bella took a few options into consideration, but simply had to refuse most of them. She wanted to look nice, but still feel comfortable. The office had a No Jeans policy so she wore one of her favorite pairs of slacks and selected a pretty blouse to go with it. It had light, two-toned floral patterns, and she adorned the simple collarless neck with a lace-edged camisole. And when in doubt? Always wear flats.

She arrived at the coffee shop early so she'd have time to scope him out. Unfortunately, it was crowded, which foiled her carefully laid plans. It did nothing to help in her search. Instead, she caught herself staring openly at random men, which was just embarrassing. Why did his profile picture have to be so vague? She needed more information.

She took a deep breath to try to calm herself down. If he was already seated somewhere, she was sure he would be able to recognize her. She turned around to retrace her steps back toward the entrance, and slammed into a hard body. The figure staggered back, catching his balance just in time before causing people around them to spill their coffee.

"You must be Bella," he said, his mouth stretching into an amused grin.

Her own mouth wavered at the corners. "Is my clumsiness that obvious?"

"It wasn't the only thing," Edward said pleasantly, directing her to a recently vacated table. The previous couple had gathered their things and was leaving. "I'm glad I caught you again in the midst of one of your escape routes."

"I wasn't escaping. I was simply going back to the front to wait," she managed, taking off her winter layers. Her body shivered and took a few minutes to acclimate to the warmer indoor temperature. When the front door opened, however, she got blasted again from the cold outside.

Edward also removed his layers, starting with the small sporty backpack from his shoulders. She noticed approvingly that there was no stiff, standard issue briefcase in sight. Once his coat and scarf were discarded, Bella saw that he wore a nice ensemble of collared shirt and khakis. It wasn't until then that she noticed something else about Edward Cullen, something very important.

Edward Cullen was beautiful.

"Thank you for soothing my ego," he said.

She would have laughed, but the relief in his voice made her quick to realize that he must be oblivious about the effect his appearance had on females. His good looks didn't completely surprise her. His heavy brow took a backseat to the extraordinary green of his eyes. His bone structure was almost too strongly angled, creating a distinct nose and sharp cheekbones that pointed to a generous mouth. This well-shaped part was full and expressive, and currently curved up on one side.

"Anything I can do to help a guy out," she replied affably, with a smile of her own. She studied him covertly while he tucked his backpack under the table at his feet. Or at least she thought it was covertly; he caught her looking, but said nothing and just smiled at her. She pushed ahead with the introductory conversation. "You seem in a better mood than last night. All is resolved with the work force? You're at some kind of ad agency for hiking gear, from what I _researched_."

"Yeah," he said, noting the reference to their ongoing joke. "It's a specialty agency. We test out all the products, familiarize ourselves with them before we begin a promotion. We expect the equipment to do what the manufacturer promises, and don't want to mislead customers. But that goes both ways, of course. Once we take on the account, they expect us to do everything in our power—well, everything permitted on a social media platform—to make sure the promotion is a success. "

She was fully engaged. "So, your agency builds a reputation that buyers can take into consideration before making a business transaction."

He nodded, pleased. "We review and market."

"I like that," she went on. "Especially because it's a discerning approach. It seems like advertising these days doesn't care what they've been paid to market as long as it's in your face."

"Money is the surest motivator," he agreed. "We're not sinking, but we'd probably be doing better if we let any willing paying client bend us over. Sorry, that was a crude metaphor. I mean...take advantage of our connections and the traffic we drive."

His flush of embarrassment made her laugh. The conversation went on at such a length and flowed so easily that they had completely forgotten to order their coffees. The sun had set and customers thinned without their notice. It wasn't until Edward stood up to stretch his stiff back that they noticed two hours had elapsed. He suggested they skip coffee altogether (the barista was eyeing them rudely) and grab dinner instead.

They walked to a nearby casual restaurant that was much livelier than the closing café had been, and ordered their drinks and meals. As they talked while waiting for their dinner, she noticed that Edward really listened when she spoke. His eyes were always alert and never left her face; he even responded to the changes in her expression.

"I understand that I won't be at Jenks forever. He likes me where I am now, so he probably won't move me to a higher position. I don't mind paying my dues, and it's helpful to be in a business environment I want to learn more about... but eventually I'll need more."

"You know Morgan Freeman didn't have a successful career until he was in his early fifties. It's never too late."

Her laugh was short, and his grin widened. "Do people really fall for that line?"

"In another life I could've been a motivational speaker," he said piously.

"It needs a little work, but I believe in you."

Humor was still floating, but the discourse tapered off there. They stared at each other. There was something impenetrable yet open about him in the quiet way he studied her. She felt mesmerized, wanting to let him lead her down that beckoning silence... but caught herself, experiencing a dizzying side effect.

She shook her head and smiled. "I should get home. It's a work night."

He agreed, catching a yawn that surprised him. It was late. He offered to see her home, feeling strongly about her safety. The commute consisted of a walk and a subway ride that was in the opposite direction of the east village, which was where he lived. But he didn't mention this. They rode the 6 in companionable silence.

Bella noted that he knew exactly where they were going without her direction. He didn't only know her address, he was familiar with being there.

On the sidewalk in front of her building, she turned to him and smiled, hiding any visible signs of nervousness. She wasn't sure if the effort was a success. She hoped he had enjoyed their evening out and would continue their communication. The air was still and bitter cold, her breath foggy against it.

"Thanks for a fun evening."

"Thanks, too."

"You know," she said, pushing a stray tendril of hair out of her face and tucking it away, "you never did send me those extra pictures of yourself."

"I thought it would be a better idea to authenticate the one picture with a personal experience. What do you think?"

"I think you were right. It was...a great idea." An unforgettable evening. She turned away, attempting to hide her shy smile.

He watched as she ascended the stairs of her building, his face riddled with an unreadable expression. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his coat and walked back in the direction they had come. Darkness swallowed him completely, but she heard the fading taps of his shoes on concrete as she unlocked the front door.

* * *

><p><strong>Thank you, kimpy0464 for the beta sprinkles, and to dollegirl for her encouragement. And thanks to you...for reading this. :) Any errors are mine.<strong>


	4. Part 4

**Part IV**

Bella was pleased that following their impromptu dinner get-together, there was an increase in communication. It wasn't because their emails were getting longer, however. They had learned the dangerous, yet alluring habit of text messaging. It was addictive in its ability to be used subtly around the office. Unfortunately, it did nothing to hide her facial reactions, so Rosalie frequently caught her distracted smiles and bright eyes when she went to "take down an appointment over the phone" or "schedule a staff meeting." Even Jenks noticed her positive attitude and assumed it had to do with her engagement in the work. He went back to his office with conceited satisfaction.

Edward was telling her about the latest movie he'd seen. He was definitely giving it a thumbs down, and listed his reasons why. This had been in response to Bella telling him she and Alice were going to see a movie this weekend. Her problem was that she didn't know what was out right now and worth seeing. Their communication became sporadic, and it wasn't until one afternoon when Jenks was in a conference that she heard from Edward again in the form of a cryptic phone call asking if she had plans Saturday afternoon. She admitted she didn't, and he replied with a cross street for her to meet him at, and a time.

She agreed and whatever guesses she had about his plans were pushed to the back of her mind as she got caught up in her numerous day-to-day tasks. Not only that, responding to their ongoing tidbits of conversation made the week go by fairly quickly.

On Friday night, Alice attempted to make a dessert, and when Bella came home, the kitchen was a flour and sugar disaster. Alice was more frustrated with the failed project than apologetic in her greeting, and they ended up laughing at where she'd gone wrong in the process.

"I didn't know baking powder couldn't be eyeballed! It said half of a teaspoon and I tapped the tin of it over the bowl to let _some_ loose. Look how it deflated! So in the next try I added more. I really think this recipe is flawed."

Bella gently added a comment or two about how too much baking powder made batter rise to a degree that caused it to collapse in the end. They cleaned up the kitchen together and then ordered Chinese food and put on a movie. A folded newspaper lay on the coffee table, the rentals section on top.

"Hey Al... about your living here," Bella started.

Alice lowered her plate to her lap, her hazel eyes brimming with anxious activity. "I know. I'm sorry about the kitchen. You're probably really tired when you get home from work and—"

"Don't worry about that."

"I've been looking around for a place. I think I found one that might be promising."

"Oh, really?"

It was the disappointment in her voice that made Alice pause. Bella seized the opportune opening. "I kind of like having you around..."

Alice's face shone with pleasant surprise. However, it didn't take much to turn her scatter of words into a thorough exploration of future living arrangements. She had just gotten past descriptions of two-bedroom apartments she'd seen in her previous searches when Bella drew her down from the clouds.

"Unfortunately I can't leave this place until my first year lease is up," she informed her pragmatically. "It's only a few more months, but I understand if you don't want to camp in the living room any longer, especially if you found a promising option."

Alice looked almost guilty. "I kind of fibbed about that. I didn't want to burden you. I've still been looking, but I like your offer better. When your lease is up we'll go back to the rental section."

Happy with the decision, they discussed easy solutions to turn Alice's corner living room space into a makeshift bedroom. The room itself was shaped awkwardly in that it was a long rectangle, and the TV area was used only on one side so the couch and entertainment space wouldn't be so far apart. Bella had had no idea what to do with the other half of the room after she moved in. It turned out Alice already had some ideas in mind after having spent so much time in it. They would buy one of those five-foot square bookshelves to separate the space and organize Alice's things more in the blocked-off area.

It was very late by the time they ended the discussion. Bella was in a sleepy-happy mood when she shed her clothes and climbed into bed. There was a text message from Edward waiting on her cell phone.

"_Don't forget about tomorrow. _ _And dress casual."_

She didn't understand what all the secrecy was about, but played along because she knew it amused him. She also wondered how creative he was going to get. Her acquiescence was almost like a silent challenge.

She sent off a text to confirm tomorrow and settled into her bed, eyes closed, as a few guesses drifted into her mind. It could be an afternoon of bowling, since he'd told her how much he enjoyed the sport. She imagined him wanting to show off a little. Maybe he was counting on that assumption and chose something more challenging. Perhaps he was taking her camping over the weekend.

When she was fourteen-years-old, her parents decided to take her on an impromptu camping trip in hopes of turning off her newly adopted teenage moodiness with quality family time. This meant seclusion from anything that entertained her, including the comfort of modern conveniences. Renee encouraged Charlie's rusty fire-making skills and made several exaggerated attempts to draw Bella into the conversation. But her parents' fake cheer didn't clear her heavy cloud of grumpiness or defiant silence.

"If only we had sent Bells to Girl Scouts. You never know when you'll have to fend for yourself in the wild," her father said, helpfully bestowing his wisdom as they sat around the used fire pit not thirty feet from the family car. The old Volkswagen was parked on a tilted patch of dry earth between two trees.

A few tendrils of smoke piped from the crisscrossed arrangement of sticks and small logs, followed by the first few licks of flame. Bella slapped a mosquito from her leg.

"Honey, that's wonderful. Isn't your father amazing? I'll get out the pot...but I have to find water." She rummaged through their bag, letting half its contents spill out unceremoniously. "I think I forgot to pack the rice. Beans and marshmallows it is! I'll be right back with that water."

Bella was perplexed as to why her parents called this torture of bug bites, bad meals and hard pads to sleep on "quality family time." By the end of the weekend, Charlie's smiling mustache had drooped, Renee's boisterous efforts to hike the nearby trails lost their steam, and Bella's skin was covered in calamine lotion.

After that, the Swans amended their decision for impromptu camping trips, choosing to stay in the comfort of their home, and Bella got to keep her teenage rebellion for another year.

She burrowed into the warmth of her blanket and thought a camping trip might not be so terrible if it was with Edward. But surely he would have told her if they were going to do something adventurous and she needed to pack specific supplies. Still, if Edward took her camping, she wondered if he would pack only one tent. Those more enjoyable thoughts overrode the others and made her cheeks flush against the cool pillow.

She wore comfortable sneakers, jeans, and a sweater under her coat the following morning. Alice had sense enough to make a pot a coffee, which Bella was grateful for as she mixed a few ounces of the caffeine into a mug of hot chocolate. She had slept in longer than she intended to and threw in a couple slices of bread to toast.

"Are we still seeing a movie tonight?" Alice asked doubtfully.

"I wish I could say... Edward hasn't so much as hinted about what we're doing."

"I want to meet him."

It was a simple declaration, and Bella rolled her eyes, reaching for a reasonable excuse to avoid that introduction until...until she was sure about him.

"Anyway, Sunday matinees are cheaper," Alice went on.

"True..." She finished the last of her cinnamon toast and drained her mug.

Alice took it from her to rinse it out in the sink. "Have fun, Bells. And don't even think about cutting the fun short on account of me. I'm thinking I'll fix up my pseudo-room today, do a little shopping for space-saving organizers, clean up—"

Bella had already left.

The crisp air felt good on her face as she walked the half mile to the subway, and her knit cap kept her hair from flying around. She took the 6 two stops north and got off at 51st. Edward met her at Lexington Ave when she resurfaced from the tunnels. She was relieved that she had dressed appropriately when she saw him in similar fashion. And there was no camping gear in sight. Below his jacket and scarf he wore dark jeans and tennis shoes. The weather had tinged his cheeks bright pink. Without a warm hat, his hair was a wild pile atop his head, bending in many directions against the intermittent breeze. He was glad to see her.

"Are you going to tell me where we're going?" she asked in greeting.

His answer was non-committal. "We're going there now."

They continued on 51st. "You really know how to keep a secret. I don't have the faintest idea what you're up to."

He grinned. "Good."

The high-end stores and boutiques they passed were packed with shoppers. She hoped Edward's plan wasn't to catch up on his Christmas shopping—they looked like madhouses on the inside.

He grabbed her gloved hand so they wouldn't get separated in the moving crowds. It added warmth and his firm grip on her was comforting. They stopped at the corner of 5th Ave on the outskirts of Rockefeller Center. A number of different events were taking place at the plaza, so it was filled with a buzz of people. As he led her to the center of it, it dawned on her with sudden horror that they would be ice-skating.

He felt her pull back in reaction. "Oh, no," she muttered, but he tugged her back to his side.

It was noisy and he leaned down and spoke in her ear, his breath tickling the hairs at her temple. "It's why I didn't tell you the plan. But—"

She stepped back to look up at him, her eyes round and huge. "You know my tendency to be... unbalanced. Edward."

Worry and reluctance were evident in her expression. He tried to control himself from splitting into a smile. "I won't let you fall. Remember? No full-body casts. Besides, it's gorgeous weather and it'll be fun. Trust me."

"Well..." She glanced at the merry skaters flying around the rink at speeds that sent a shudder through her. But the anxiousness in Edward's eyes was persuasive. She didn't want to fall into the trap of being Boring Bella that she had feared of falling into from the start.

"Also, I already bought tickets." Somehow he knew this last reason would win her over. She readily agreed that there was no sense in wasting the expense of the tickets, so they went to get fitted with skates. It was okay walking on them over the carpeted area, and she practiced staying upright in the darn things while he finished lacing up.

He helped her onto the ice. She felt sick to her stomach. She clutched his hand and glided beside him, her knees locked. Two adolescents passed in front of them. While he stopped short with the experienced ease and grace of an athlete, the abrupt movement left her unbalanced. She wavered on the blades and made a grab at him to steady herself.

The experience so far made her recoil in a way she hadn't expected. She hadn't ice-skated since she was very young. It wasn't something she hated or feared, but she had never really felt the urge to do it in her spare time as an adult. As of right now she decided that it was an activity she definitely disliked. Her legs wouldn't stop trembling and she refused to let go of Edward. The only thing that she was truly enjoying was the feeling of his body flush against her own. It was steady and comfortable, and caused a pleasant flutter deep down that curled.

He pushed a piece of hair back from her shoulder. The movement made her slowly aware of herself and worked to thin the mist of fear that surrounded her. Keeping her hold on his arm, she took a moment to look around. The other skaters were unaware of her predicament, enjoying themselves on the ice.

She and Edward passed by the tremendous Christmas tree at the head of the rink, towering over them magnificently. She'd read in the paper that this year's was a 74-foot Norway Spruce the city had brought in from Pennsylvania. Gray winter clouds blanketed the sky, obscuring the sun's rays enough to allow the holiday lights on it to twinkle. She knew it was even more beautiful at night, when the evergreen seemed to transform into a breathtaking mountain of delicate-looking gold and red. The city showcased it further with spotlights of blue that shimmered along the cascading fountains behind the angelic statues. The rest of the plaza was boldly lit with jewel tones that made the buildings look like chunks of crystal.

"See, it's not so bad," Edward said encouragingly.

"Not so bad," she agreed belatedly as a new breeze danced across her face. "It's always beautiful here. It's the one thing I really love about the holidays. The lights."

"I like them, too," he admitted.

"Just keep moving one foot in front of the other. Your limbs will know what to do naturally."

"Okay," she said, trying very hard to believe him.

People of all ages littered the ice. Parents bent over toddlers, holding them up as they learned how to skate for the first time. Others liked the speed of it, and zoomed around, weaving in between the casual skaters. In one corner, an elderly woman turned in slow, weightless movements that reflected some elite figure skating skills in the past. She kicked up in a twirl and landed effortlessly on the blades. She smiled at Bella as they passed her.

Her mind busy with all of her observations, Bella had forgotten to be afraid and uncoordinated. Edward noticed it, too. Gradually they increased the speed of their carefully synchronized gliding to a comfortable level, and she laughed with a nervous thrill. She suddenly felt like she _could_ become a moderately good skater and hold her own during the hours that they circled the icy perimeter. She ended up having so much fun that it was Edward who eventually suggested they go find a place to eat a late lunch.

The holiday lights were glowing more prominently since the daylight had receded after its feeble attempts to shine. It was a brilliant sight, which made Bella not want to leave. She was caught up in the dazzle of them around her, until they began to turn on their sides, as her equilibrium tipped. It happened too fast for her to prevent. She reached out for Edward again, and to her surprise they both fell toward the unforgiving ice.

He let out a muffled curse and her eyes squinted shut, preparing for the worst of the impact. His body took the blow, protecting her from injury. After a deafening moment, he moaned and stirred beneath her. She opened her eyes to see how bad it was.

"You're hurt."

"I'm not," he said as she leaned over him. Her hair curtained around them as his dazed eyes moved to center their focus on her face, which was full of concern and flushed with embarrassment.

Ignoring his statement, she pulled off her gloves impatiently and moved her fingers into his hair searching for blood. If there was blood, she knew that she'd faint right on top of him. There was none, thankfully, and he was also very conscious, so that ruled out a concussion. He had been watching her fuss, saying nothing.

She glanced back to him. For an instant, she saw a bare streak of desire in the green eyes that touched every part of her face. The look was both charged with tension and as gentle as growing fondness.

And then an older man approached, offering his assistance and breaking the spell.

The man helped her to feet. Edward got up by himself, regaining his balance easily and straightened his jacket.

Bella thanked the man and he skated off, continuing his path along the ice.

They made their way back to return their rented skates.

"I'm really sorry. But I did warn you... Are you sure you aren't hurt?"

He chuckled and moved to let her pass in front of him. She gratefully sat down on the bench and unlaced. "I didn't want to be left out of the falling down. Why not go out with a crash, right?"

She slanted a glance at him, working on the second set of laces. "Now you're the one soothing my ego."

"Maybe I am," he said, working his skates free beside her. "But if I hadn't been... distracted, I might've steadied you in time. We can still look at the lights from the sidelines while we recover."

He was right for them to stop. Once she was out of the skates, her legs felt very wobbly. It was good to go back to the stable land of concrete.

They took in the late afternoon air, watching the other skaters continue below the brilliant Christmas glow and front-lit buildings.

Edward was happy that she had enjoyed herself so much. "What are you in the mood for?"

She recalled a sandwich shop nearby that she liked very much. The place had a mean turkey club, with real roasted turkey breast and crisp bacon. Suddenly she felt ravenous. "I know the perfect place."

He let her lead, and they held hands to storm the crowds together. It was quickly becoming their habit of the day. They ordered their sandwiches and sat inside to warm up over coffee. They weren't the only customers who thought the place was terrific, and it began to get busy. After they finished eating, they strolled outside again, braving the chill, and settled on the marble steps of a business building. Edward leaned back on the step behind him and looked out at the view of Rockefeller Center and the avenues in between.

A strange interval of time arrived in which the crowded streets thinned. There were still some shoppers taking advantage of the later hours stores provided during the holiday, but most people were starting to pack up and go home for the evening. The nighttime partiers hadn't yet surfaced.

"It's strange, isn't it? Knowing each other," he said suddenly.

Bella was leaning forward, her elbows resting on her knees. She looked over her shoulder at him. His usual, easy-going good humor had shifted into something more serious, which surprised her, yet it was fitting for the moment.

"I suppose it is." She took off her knit hat and shook out her hair before putting it back on. "I've been wanting to know something..."

"Who it was for?" he said in a calm voice. "My ex-girlfriend." Then he laughed and it sounded strange to his ears. It made Bella look at him again, and he smiled without humor.

"About a month ago, I was digging around in my closet for a specific tie because we were having a Fun Tie Day theme at work. I remembered that my mom had given me one as a gift. I'd tossed it into the closet without a second thought. Don't look at me like that, Bella. It really was a hideous tie. Plaid with penguins all over it. Who knows what made her give it to me.

"It turns out that I stumbled on the dress instead. I don't know why it was mixed in with my things; we haven't seen each other in almost a year. I have to be honest, when I saw it back there, my first thought was to burn it. Not out of residual anger, but more of a childish, mischievous notion. But I realized that it would've only given me a few satisfying, but ultimately empty, moments.

"Anyhow, I eventually got back in touch with my better self and thought maybe Tanya was genuinely missing her dress, so I shipped it to her. No note was required; she'd know who it was from and that it was just an act of simple courtesy. Obviously I didn't know she had moved. There was no reason for her to tell me. We haven't been in touch at all."

He was a little paler than usual, and looked at Bella intently. He tried not to care about what she thought but failed miserably. Would she want to know why they had broken up? Try to find out if there was something wrong with him that caused the relationship to fail? Judge him for wanting to burn the dress? Her expression was burning with a question.

"Did you ever find the tie?"

This was the first out of two times in their acquaintance that Edward would be reduced to a speechless state. After a few moments, the color rushed back to his face. He scooted down a step so that they were almost eye level.

He reached out, drew his thumb along her jaw.

Her pulse doubled, and she stared at him. His eyes were more brilliantly alive and vibrant than the Christmas lights glowing around them. "No. I never found that damn tie," he said.

The optical hold he had on her was potent and wildly searching for...something. It was too much to receive all at once. Her eyes fell. His finger lightened its touch along her jaw and turned dutiful, tucking a stray tendril of hair behind her ear.

Despite the chilly December air, her face was burning. Her whole body felt overheated. She didn't know why she had held back just now. When she glanced up again, she saw his profile; he had turned back to view the city scene. The sudden urge to kiss him was so great that she dug her nails into her palms to keep from reaching for him.

Oblivious to her internal struggle, he interpreted the moment in a different way. "So that's the story. Do you have any exes I should worry about?" His voice had regained most its usual humor, if still a little taut.

"No." She smiled faintly. "I'm sure my mother wishes any of them still cared enough to rush to my rescue—not that I'm in any danger. She always looks so disappointed when things don't work out. I tell her it's not easy on my end either." Weary sarcasm had drifted into her tone.

"It never is," he agreed. "So, what now, B? My evening is open, although I could lie and tell you a party with provided limo service awaits me somewhere."

She laughed and jabbed him in the side with her elbow. "I actually have a gala to get to and schmooze important people over hors d'oeuvres and French champagne, but I guess I can free up my night for you."

He blew some warmth into his hands and rubbed them together. Then he stood, extending his hand to help her to her feet. "That's good of you. If either of us bore each other, we can crash one of our supposed events. C'mon."

She called Alice and told her she wasn't going to make the movie. But, of course, Alice already knew this.

* * *

><p><strong>Happy Valentine's Day, Lovelies. One more part left!<br>**

**I've had my own thrills. Last week on a vacation in Hawaii, my boyfriend proposed to me. It was amazing. :) **

**Thanks to my beta kimpy0464, and to dollegirl for her encouragement. And thanks to you for reading. Any errors are mine.**


	5. Part 5

**Part V**

Alice wasn't pleased to see her friend walk through the door around midnight. She was wide awake and lounging on the couch with a book in hand, the TV on low, and the stereo playing holiday music all at once. It was just how Alice worked.

She tossed her book aside and said, "Bells, what the heck are you doing here?"

Bella was methodically taking off hat and scarf and unbuttoning her coat. "I live here?"

Alice wasn't amused by this obvious answer. "I mean, where's Edward?"

"At his place. _Where he lives._ I'm sorry, were you going to throw a party while I was out? Otherwise I'll be getting ready for bed. Good night—"

"Hold up!" Alice leaped from the couch, throwing the blanket aside. Several inches shorter and very petite, she still managed to block Bella from escaping to her bedroom. "I figured you guys would be out all night—or in." She crowed over her own joke.

Bella flushed and stepped around her. "We're not ready for that yet. Honestly, Al... It's only been two dates, if they can even be called dates." Edward was apparently too nice and respectful to seduce her in any obvious way, but she made sure to keep that last thought to herself.

She didn't hear from him at all the following morning, and decided a movie matinee with Alice was just the thing to take her mind off of the lack of correspondence. Usually he at least said good morning, and by the afternoon she felt that something was truly wrong.

She invited Rosalie and her husband, Emmett, along to the theater. Alice chose the movie, since she was the most opinionated about the choices available. It was a nice way to pass a Sunday afternoon. In the evening, unable to resist any longer, she sent Edward a message.

_Hope you had as much of a relaxing Sunday as I did. Thanks again for yesterday._

Monday morning started out terribly. There were no new messages from him—anywhere. She checked and re-checked all of their cyber platforms, in case she missed one. The disappointment was bruising.

Then again, maybe his pride was bruised. What she thought was a pleasant Saturday night could've been him smoothing away their intimate moment on the steps. Did he secretly feel rejected? If that was the case, she didn't blame him for wanting to keep his distance; empathetically, she would be doing the same. But perhaps he wasn't thinking about it at all. It was difficult to tell with Edward. Distracted by her stormy thoughts, she missed Jenks' supervisory glares.

Somehow she'd gotten through the day in a blur of gloom and confusion. But Rosalie had had enough of it. "Just call him."

"Maybe he didn't contact me because he's busy. And if he's busy, my call would bother him."

"And if he's not busy..."

"Then he doesn't want to talk to me anymore."

That was an unbearable thought to her. She had enjoyed their discussions so much over the last couple of weeks. A day and a half of no communication was odd for their relationship. Ever since his first email, they talked everyday, even if it was short or about nothing important. She had gotten attached to him in her life.

She picked up the phone and called his cell phone. It went straight to voicemail, which wasn't helpful to her need for immediate answers. She tried his office. It would be her last attempt. She wasn't going to bark up every tree.

"NewMoon Creative, this is the office of Edward Cullen, may I help you?" said a reedy feminine voice.

"Can I speak to Edward, please?"

"He's not in today. You want to leave a message?"

Bella smiled at the tone that sounded like her grandmother saying: _You want me to put on tea? And shut the door behind you to keep out the cold!_

"No. I'm a friend and hadn't heard from him so I was just checking if he was around... Is this Phyllis?"

"Yes. And you are?"

"Bella. Bella Swan."

"Poor Edward is out sick today. Did you try his cell phone?" she asked, trying to be helpful.

She told Phyllis she had tried that, and confirmed that she didn't want to leave a message, she was sure Edward would contact her when he was feeling better, thank you for the help, and have a nice holiday.

At the end of her work day she could only picture a deathly ill Edward sprawled helplessly in bed, drawing shuddering breaths that rattled the silent darkness of his bedroom. No one with Christian charity could ignore that image.

His apartment building had a doorman. The uniformed man was nice enough, but she saw him as an obstacle. That was, until she gave him her name.

"Bella Swan, you're on the list. Go right up. Elevators are on your right, eleventh floor."

_List?_

What list? She had no idea what he'd meant by that, but was too concerned about Edward to hang around and discuss it. The building itself was very nice with a side of weird. The lobby featured dark, polished furnishings with gaudy brass accents, perfect lighting, and garishly patterned carpet.

Edward answered the door sluggishly in response to her few loud knocks. He didn't look as terrible as she had imagined he would. His normal complexion took on a gray undertone and his hair was a notch messier than its usual windblown state. His heavy, tired eyes animated slightly when he saw her in the doorway.

"Hey, Bella." He gave her a weak smile. Then the realization rushed into his face. "You must've been worried. Sorry I didn't call. I was unwell—"

"Am," Bella corrected, inviting herself in. "_Am_ unwell. Don't stand here to explain. Back in bed, please. I already feel guilty enough making you answer the door. There should be rentable butlers for this kind of thing."

His chuckling cut off with a sharp hiss. He rubbed his temples while they made their way down the hall. He fell onto his bed, groaned, and turned his face into one of his pillows, mumbling.

"What?" she said.

He turned from the pillow a fraction. "I said you're loud. Here you are, blowing up the migraine in my head..."

So the polite greetings had turned into crankiness. Bella ignored his weak complaints (and the moodiness behind them) and pulled the blanket up to his neck. He was already drifting off toward unconsciousness, his tense shoulders relaxing and his breathing deepening.

A bottle of Excedrin and a half-full glass of water was on his nightstand. There seemed to be nothing she could do to help him.

This certainly explained his absolute lack of communication. The brightness of a computer monitor would be as bad as daggers stabbing his cranium.

Renee had experienced her share of migraines; from what Bella understood, they were agonizing. Her mother would shroud the bedroom in complete darkness while she and Charlie tiptoed around the house for a couple of days. Renee had asked for ice packs, she suddenly remembered. But Edward didn't have those watery gel packs her mother used. She put together a pack with a Ziploc bag filled with ice and wrapped it in a kitchen towel.

After she tucked it between his forehead and the pillow, she closed the door softly behind her and went to scope out her food options in his kitchen. She set her purse and coat on the breakfast nook, stepped out of her flats to keep the noise down, and went to the refrigerator. It was stocked with the essentials and a few other treats. She put together a sandwich for her dinner, chewing and observing her surroundings.

It was a nice apartment, but not ostentatious. Right away she could tell he liked the place for its numerous windows. He probably kept them all open in the spring and summer. Only three actually gave a decent view of the city below. The rest overlooked less interesting areas, including the building next door. The place was clean in the ways that really mattered. Clutter lived here, in piles of books, records and CDs, and in the overabundance of outdoor equipment he had clearly brought home from work.

Tired of looking at all the lifeless things, she picked up a newspaper on the counter and opened it to read. When that ceased to be entertaining, she went to check on him.

He was right where she'd left him, sprawled in the same exact position. She crawled into his full-size bed and slipped under the blanket. It seemed like the only reasonable thing to do. What if he worsened overnight? And she'd missed him terribly.

It was still early in the evening, but the day's worries had worn her out. She felt the weight of them push down on her even as his presence comforted her. It felt natural to just settle in against him, welcoming sleep. The sheets smelled like him; it was a lovely scent that was entirely Edward.

It was dark when her eyes opened sometime later. She didn't know what had woken her. Inside, everything was still, but she could hear the city's usual nighttime buzz, a mere echo of the chaos it was during the day. Edward was curled behind her. His breathing was deep and even. His arm had moved to her side, his hand resting just below her hip. His forehead was pressed between her shoulder blades and she could feel the cool intake and puffs of hot exhales of his breath down her back.

She was afraid to move, but wanted to know what time it was. In stiff, restrained movements she stretched her neck out to peer at the glowing numbers of the digital clock on his nightstand. Three fifty-two.

She sighed and laid her head back down. The movement caused him to stir, and he tightened his unconscious grip on her. Instantly her pulse throbbed loudly to her ears. He wouldn't be mad that she'd stayed the night, but would this level of intimacy be okay with him? She felt his hand brushed down her leg. On a deep inhale he turned his face farther in the curve of her shoulder and the pillow. Then he jerked minutely, brushing the ends of her hair away from where they tickled his face. His hand returned to the spot on her leg, as if it was meant to be there.

She tried to go back to sleep, and had almost reached the thoughtless, weightless black of it when he moved again. Her skin came to life. He didn't know how his breath made her neck tingle, made her body long for more. She wanted so badly to turn around in his arms, gently kiss him awake, and feel how well his body fit with hers. She wanted to dissolve in his warmth, wanted his lips to move over her... Thinking about it in dreamy detail, she fell back asleep.

She awoke again as soon as the sun had risen and hadn't gotten nearly enough sleep due to her restless impulses. Quietly, she crept out of his apartment and back to her own for a quick shower and fresh change of clothes. It was miraculous that she had eluded Alice and her inevitable questions about where she'd been.

She was at work when she received a message from him.

_I had the strangest dream you were in my doorway last night._

Her body was still missing his warm, hard presence.

_That wasn't a dream._

_Did we...?_

Bella could practically see his wicked one-sided grin and animated eyes burning into her with humorous mischief. She fired off a question to his question.

_What else happened in the dream?_

Twenty minutes passed before she got a reply, and the single sentence made her face burn all the way up to her ears. And all the way down...

_I better not say or it won't come true._

When she could think clearly again, she asked him, _Are you sure this isn't just a concussion masquerading as a migraine?_ Their fall on the ice had felt more like a crash, though she hadn't been exposed to the full impact of it.

_Nope, it's genuine. This is what happens to me from time to time, because my brain is quite large and very active._

That made her laugh out loud, much to Jenks' dismay. She was relieved that he sounded like his normal self.

During the afternoon lag—he knew her schedule well enough by now to know when her office was slow—he called to ask her if she was free again on Saturday night. He wanted to try a new restaurant that opened in the West Village.

"But Saturday is Christmas Eve," she said gently. "Aren't you going to your family's ski lodge?"

"I leave on Christmas Day," he answered readily. "I stay there until New Year's."

"Oh. That's a long time," she said, trying to keep the sullenness out of her voice. She wished she could see his face right now. Would he miss her, too? She remembered the feel of his hand resting on her hip, and her face flushed into the phone.

"Yeah." There was a pause. "Would you want to come? It'll be your chance to try skiing for the first time. I'm an excellent teacher."

She laughed nervously, and then grew doubtful. "You're just being nice. It wouldn't be right for me to crash your family tradition."

"You wouldn't be."

She paused. "Maybe. I already agreed to go with Alice to her family's gathering." She knew that Alice wouldn't care if she changed her plans, but Bella wasn't as impulsive as Edward. She needed time to think over the invitation.

She could almost hear him shrugging. "Okay, just let me know. Was that a yes for Saturday?"

"Yes."

"Dress nicely," he added, and hung up.

It wasn't a matter of going through her closet and making a hard decision about what she'd select for Saturday. She knew what she had to do. Besides, how many occasions were there to wear a Versace dress? In her life, not many. Edward had told her she looked beautiful in it, and she couldn't resist choosing the symbol that brought them together.

She'd done her best with her appearance. She cut her shower time short to shave and lotion up until her skin softly shimmered. Hair was blown out to a shiny mass, makeup was applied only to accentuate the features she liked, and she'd eaten a light lunch earlier.

Alice had left yesterday with a packed bag to see her family in Connecticut. Bella found herself completely alone in her apartment for the first time in a while. It was a good thing Alice agreed to stay on as a permanent roommate or she would go crazy in the silence she had once cherished. _Things change._

Things certainly had changed.

A sick anxiety filled her at the thought of skiing, especially for the first time in front of Edward's family. The sun's blinding reflection off the slippery slopes, high speeds, thickly padded gear that prevented comfortable movement. She could still back out and spend the holiday on her own. Watching movie marathons, drinking herself silly, baking cookies and finishing that book she'd put aside too many times.

And, of course, missing Edward.

If she could survive a week of skiing, she might be crazy enough to suggest a camping trip to him. Baby steps, she reminded herself. Her ice-skating experience that ended in a crash was still fresh in her mind, but Edward had easily laughed off her embarrassment.

He was always so patient with her. She loved his quick mind and sexy one-sided grin. She would willingly take his good humor and bad moods, their long conversations and companionable silences. She knew that he would give her some adventure, while she would persuade him to relax more. Who knows? She might even be able to bring out an occasional lazy side of Edward, one filled with comfort and kisses.

Ever since they first connected, they seemed to always be attached 24/7, but without suffocating each other. She'd never had such an easy connection with someone. It was the start of something good.

These thoughts kept her mind occupied as she went down to the subway to grab the 6 down and cross over to the L. She walked a few blocks, slowly, keeping her eyes peeled for the restaurant.

New York was truly a city that never slept. People were out and about on Christmas Eve, inside its many restaurants and bars, and strolling around on the streets. Some spilled from houses hosting large parties. Taxis went back and forth. The weather was clear, the dark heavy clouds sitting stationary above, but the air was frosty. Her cheeks felt numb-red.

On the corner ahead, lights glowed from within the building, and a murmuring buzz of voices could be heard. Outside, the scent of cooking filled the air. It was the restaurant where she was to meet Edward, a quiet establishment in a little neighborhood.

A shop window gave her pause. It was decked out with wrapped gifts in between the mannequins that were dressed in beautiful, slinky dresses, and white lights bordered the window. She would never look at a dress the same way again. It was so amazing that lifeless fashionable fabric could lead to the most incredible crossing of paths.

She hadn't noticed Edward standing beside her, even as his form left a blurry dark shape in the window's reflection. It was startling when he greeted her softly, but she was happy to see him.

His usual friendliness was guarded. His pale complexion mixed with nighttime shadows made his angled features look stark, but his eyes glimmered warmly.

"Is your migraine coming back?" she asked.

He shook his head with a forced smile. "Looking ill is not a good prelude to what I was just about to do."

Her first instinct was to laugh, but she managed to hold it back. All she could do was stare up at him, waiting for him to explain.

"I was going to wait," he continued, his voice sounding tight and a little strange. This level of nervousness was unusual for him. "But when I saw you standing here by yourself...looking beautiful..."

The air seemed to trap itself in her lungs. It took her a few distracted moments to focus her attention on what it was that he held in his raised hand. It was a shopping bag.

He looked uneasy. "I know you don't like surprises."

She didn't have a clue. "What is it?"

"Hiking boots."

Bella had never felt so unenthusiastic about a gift. Beneath her surprise, she did her best to muster a grateful smile. But her mind was quickly clouded with worry. "Does that mean we aren't going out to eat after all?"

He laughed and caught her around the waist, pulling her body close to him. "Don't look so scared." He grew serious, looking down at her lips. "If it's okay, I'm going to kiss you. Not because it's Christmas, but because—"

Bella took the conversation into her own hands—lips. This, she wasn't afraid of. She'd wanted to kiss him for a while; the urge to felt so strong that it almost hurt _not_ to.

It was pure, raw pleasure, a surge of warmth. The heat of it began to work its way from the inside out. It dragged desire up and flowed into the arms that she hugged around his neck. It made his lips work against hers, and gentleness turned to approval and rose to enjoyment.

Breathless from it, he looked down at her. "Bella, you should know that I'm falling for you and have been ever since you told me to get on the cool bandwagon with hot chocolate. It was completely unexpected, and it made me want to...know you. When you flaunted this dress at me, and kept in contact with me, it pulled me in. Even with your sarcastic remarks, you've got this ingenuous klutzy side that is absolutely...beautiful." He loosened his vise grip on her waist. "Are you still with me, Bella?"

"Yes. I heard everything." Her eyes felt wet, but she wasn't sad. He could see that his words affected her deeply—the emotion moved across her face and composed itself into a blooming smile. "But you still never answered my question. About dinner."

"Let's go to dinner. The boots are for later. I know this great spot that overlooks the city. But I figured your heels would hurt getting there..."

He started toward the restaurant. She put a hand to his cheek, turning him back to her. She'd never felt so weightless and floating. "Edward, I like you, too. I was worried that telling you would freak you out."

"Well, we've been stalking each other over a mistakenly delivered package. I don't think it gets much freakier than that."

"What if..." He was so good humored, she just had to try and ruffle him. "What if I'm downright in love with you?"

For the second and last time in their acquaintance, Edward Cullen was struck speechless. There was a soft intensity in his expression. She reached up on her toes and kissed the shock away from his parted mouth, smiling into it. In a moment of regained senses, he cupped her face and the kiss deepened into grateful need and the hope of promises. They were missing their dinner reservation, but neither of them cared.

* * *

><p><strong>I hope you enjoyed it. :)<br>**

**The idea for it was based on a true story. I _did_ get a mystery package in the mail last Christmas. It _was_ a Versace dress. But that's where the similarities ended. It was an ebay order mix-up, which took me a week to figure out after accusing some clueless relatives.  
><strong>

**Thanks to dollegirl for her encouragement aka when we both said "THIS SHOULD BE A FIC" and to kimpy0464 for coming through with her beta magic. **

**I have an outtake of Bella and Edward's future in the works... If it turns out how I want it to, then I'll post it. Thanks for reading!  
><strong>


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